Perfect Enemy
by reconquista
Summary: Prussia/East Germany was sent to live with Russia after WWII. Ivan thinks breaking him will be easy, but Gilbert was never one to give in. //Ivan's and Gilbert's hate relationship. Molestation, violence, bad language, mention of non-consensual sex.
1. Why should I welcome

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia or any of these characters.

**WARNING: **Umm... violence, mild gore, bad language, Russia...

**A/N: **Um... I got into this pairing after finding some amazing fanart of these two on DeviantArt, like this one: h t t p://jobey-sama. deviantart. com/art /APH-Prussia- and-Russia- 121166332. (Please take out spaces.)

And plus the fact that I'm still experimenting with lots of different pairings... I decided to write this. Please tell me what you think. Am I good at writing these two together?

--LeriaCossato

**EDIT: After researching a little more about Russia and Prussia's relationship, I've revised the story a little and added some historical notes at the end to clear up any questions or confusion.**

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* * *

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**Perfect Enemy**

_~I forever stay,  
Your perfect enemy. ~_

Three days. That's all that had passed. Three days.

And yet it seemed so much longer.

He remembered it all so clearly; the cold voices of the allies, telling him he was to be split from Ludwig, his brother's face, strewn with tears...

And one man with a bloodstained pipe.

That same man was here now, grinning sadistically down at Gilbert, the infamous pipe in one hand, and a bottle of vodka in the other.

"Good morning, Gilbert."

He must have looked a pathetic sight. The famous Prussia, once so strong and powerful, now slumped down against a wall in a basement room of Russia's house.

"Don't you dare wish me a good morning, you cold-hearted son of a bitch. After what you did to me yesterday, I should be dead. Unfortunately for me, our kind doesn't die that easily. How wonderful."

Russia bent down, until his face was inches from Gilbert's.

"But Gilbert, you were naughty yesterday. You didn't do what I told you to do, so you had to be punished. Perhaps you need to take lessons from Toris or Raivis, da? They obey me."

"Lithuania and Latvia and whatever-the-other-one-is -called only obey you cause they're too chicken-shit to fight back! Untie me and let's settle this properly, like the nations we are. Then you'll see the awesomeness that is Prussia!"

"And if you truly are awesome, why did you lose?"

"That was a low blow, Braginski."

"Just learning from you, Gilbert. Don't you remember Barbarossa? I was your ally, Gilbert. I was all ready to help you. But no, you had to betray me didn't you? DIDN'T YOU!?"

The pipe came swinging down. Gilbert instinctively scrunched his eyes shut, but when the blow failed to come, he slowly opened them again. The pipe was there, just centimetres from his left temple. He could see old dried blood, slowly flaking off. Some of that was Lithuania's no doubt, but some of that was also his.

"Have you already forgotten what happened yesterday, Gilbert? How silly you are. Perhaps I should remind you, da?"A leather covered hand gripped the collar of Gilbert's ruined shirt, and dragged him up until they were almost face to face.

"Time to learn your lesson, my pet."

* * *

From downstairs came the unmistakable blood-chilling sound of someone screaming. In the kitchen, Latvia automatically threw his hands over his ears, and hummed a tune to try and drown it out. He should have got used to this by now. He had heard his brothers screaming many times before. Sometimes it was even him, begging and pleading Ivan to stop, to please stop this sick torture.

But Russia never listened. Once he had begun a little twisted fantasy, he would not stop until he was satisfied.

Cautiously, Raivis removed the hands from his ears. The screaming had stopped. He glanced around, wondering if suddenly, Russia would burst through the doorway. Instead, Lithuania came in. His face was one of sympathy.

"Raivis, I know it's hard to listen to, but be grateful that it isn't you. With Prussia here, Ivan has a new pet. He's picking on us less and less every day."

"But how can you just sit back and let Ivan do this? Why don't you rebel against Russia?"

Toris sighed deeply.

"...Because those who rebel only end up in more pain. I learnt the hard way, Raivis. I have the scars to show. I never want to be abused in that way again. So if it means submitting to Russia's will, then I will do so. I am broken, Raivis. I don't know what to do anymore. Besides, Prussia's been nothing but a pain to me ever since the day he was born. I say it's good he's finally being knocked off his perch."

Raivis had never been a self-assured person. But after hearing his brother say those words, something inside him snapped.

"I don't understand you anymore, Toris! You were always the confident, rebellious one! Now, listen to you! What happened to the big brother I loved so much? What... happe-"The rest of his sentence was swallowed by sobs.

Suddenly, he felt his brother's strong arms around him, carefully holding him. He felt Estonia come into the room, and join in the hug. He felt the love between them like a soft blanket, slowly draping itself over the three Baltic nations, and he knew that somehow, they would escape one day.

Somehow.

* * *

"Ivan... hey Ivan, please... no more. Please man, I'm begging you. I was only joking really, you know I was. I-"

"Shut up, Gilbert. You aren't fooling anyone. The meek, pleading thing doesn't work with your face."

"But, but this is insane! I'll... I'll die!"

Russia could hear the panic in Gilbert's voice. He smiled. This was good. Gilbert panicking was something that very few people ever witnessed. He was usually just too obnoxious and arrogant for his own good. It was excellent to knock him down a few pegs once in a while.

As the heavy pipe came swinging down again, they both heard a slight crack of something breaking. Gilbert gasped heavily; sweat running down his face and stinging in the cuts on his arms and torso. He was chained to a wooden pole in the middle of the room, his shirt torn off his body, and his pants no more than shreds.

Russia lowered one finger into a gash on Gilbert's back. He heard the hiss from between gritted teeth. He pushed harder into the cut, wanting to see more blood pour out, wanting to see Gilbert scrunch his face up in agony.

It worked.

Prussia closed his eyes. The pain filling his body was almost unbearable, yet he did not want to give in and start screaming again. He wouldn't let this bastard have the satisfaction. Instead, he set his jaw firmly, and breathed slowly. _One... two. One...two. One... two._

Russia was getting bored with this game. His pet wasn't responding; it was like he wasn't even there. Games were only fun when someone screamed.

He grabbed Prussia's chin and forced his lips onto his. Gilbert opened his eyes in surprise, and tried to wiggle free, but Ivan was too strong.

The kiss was bitter and foul. Gilbert could taste blood and smoke and strong alcohol. It was like being choked by a burning pile of bodies.

When Russia finally pulled away Gilbert was left coughing and spluttering, trying to rid himself of the horrible taste lingering on his mouth. Russia grinned.

"You enjoyed it, hmm?"

Gilbert gave Russia a dirty look, before beckoning him closer with his chin. Russia complied, and bent closer to Gilbert.

...Then he spat straight onto Ivan's face.

Russia pulled away, outraged, the fury rapidly returning to his eyes. They both watched as the bloody glob dripped from Ivan's cheek onto the floor. Gilbert threw his head back and laughed the laugh of a courageous madman who knows that he is going to die anyway.

A fierce punch to his left cheek stopped him short. He remained there for a while, breathing slowly, and then lifted his head. His blood red eyes burned, smug.

"...Fuck you, Braginski. Go burn in hell."

* * *

A/N: So! First chapter is done! Whoohoo! Please review, I would like to know whether people enjoyed this.

By the way, this fanfic will not be yaoi, because it is my personal belief that Prussia would never give in and let Russia do something like that to him.  
There might be slight molestation though 8D *winkwink*

Oh, and if anyone wants to know a song which I think matches their relationship perfectly, look up 'Perfect Enemy' by t.A.T.u. In fact, the title is a lyric from that song.

Thank you for reading.

**HISTORICAL AND STORY NOTES:**

**Russia and Prussia have never really been allies. In the War of the Austrian Succession (1740-1748) and the Seven Years' War (1756-1763), they were on opposite sides. During the Seven Years' War, they fought against each other in the Battle of Zorndorf, in which over 31,000 troops died. The battle was also inconclusive; both sides claimed victory.**

**The actual nation of Prussia was dissolved on 25 February 1947, by the Allied Council. After WWII, Germany was split into two parts, West and East. In Hetalia canon, Ludwig (Germany) is referred to as 'West' by his brother, Gilbert (Prussia), so many believe that Gilbert in fact, represents East Germany as well as the former state of Prussia. West Germany was taken over by the UK, US and France, while East Germany (or the GDR) was taken by the Soviet Union (Russia). This now sets the scene for my story, in which Gilbert is a sort of prisoner in Russia's house.**

**I hope that cleared up any confusion readers might have.**


	2. your Domination?

**A/N:** My spellchecker likes to change 'Raivis', into 'ravish'.

--LeriaCossato

**EDIT: Made some more minor changes! Whoo I'm not very good at this am I? Lol. I've decided to deliberately make all the nations say 'East Germany', instead of 'Prussia', because Prussia was officially dissolved by this time period. Gilbert and Ludwig however, still remain loyal to the name 'Prussia'. I also have Ivan using 'Gilbert' instead of 'East' because he tries to be overly friendly towards Prussia, which, as we all know, is not received very well. XD.**

* * *

Prussia woke up in a daze. He didn't quite remember what had happened, but he was sure it involved an angry Russia and something hard and blunt. He shifted around, and winced as he accidently put pressure on the many cuts and bruises covering his entire body.

The door to his small cell of a room opened, and a timid Latvia poked his head around.

"Um, Mr East sir?"

There was a groan as a response.

"Uh... Mr Russia wants to see you upstairs in the kitchen."

"Oh shit," he muttered. "Right, I'm coming."

He lifted himself up, and started to put on one of his shirts. Russia had brought over most of his possessions, but the iron cross, the symbol of Gilbert's pride, had been conveniently left at Ludwig's house.

"Hey uh, Raivis?"

"Yes, Mr East?"

"Uh... what time is it?" There were no windows in his room.

"It's almost noon, sir. After Mr Russia um... beat you, you fell unconscious. You've been unconscious for the whole morning."

"Oh. Well, thanks for telling me and uh..."

"Yes?"

"Please call me Gilbert. I'm no one of position anymore. Not in this hellhole."

He flashed his trademark grin, and was relieved to see the timid child smile faintly back.

When he reached the kitchen door, he paused for a second, before turning the handle and striding in.

Ivan was sitting at the table, opening a new bottle of vodka.

"Ah, Gilbert. How nice to see you this morning."

There was no trace of the angry, violent man from last night. His face was all smiles and a look of pure glee.

_What the fucking hell...? Is he truly bipolar, as everyone thinks?_

The others bustled into the room and sat down for lunch. Estonia recalled the events of the morning, news and trade and other such things that Prussia had no care for. Lithuania was busy serving out the food, and Latvia didn't utter a word if he could help it.

It was truly an awkward house to be in.

The kettle began whistling. The longer Gilbert listened to it, the more is started to sound like someone screeching. Was just him? Or was everything in this madman's house as fucked up as he was? He wasn't sure. The sound kept going and going, and Prussia felt a sort of agitation and discomfort rise up in his belly. He wanted to ask Russia if he could leave the room, but he knew that the bastard would either out rightly say 'no', or let him, and then tease him about it for the rest of eternity.

Speaking of eternity, was it his fate to spend the rest of eternity here? He hoped not. He'd rather die than spend any longer than was necessary here. But he had hope. His brother had promised that he would be back for him; that he just needed to stay a little while with the Russian.

_You'd better not have been lying, West._

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. They all looked around, alarmed at each other, before Toris carefully excused himself to go get it.

He came back almost running.

"Um... Mr Braginski? There's someone here for you."

"Who is it, Toris dear?"

"...Mr America."

Ivan stood up without a word. With one look, he sent Raivis running into the other room, muttering something about 'laundry'. Eduard picked up a newspaper, and excused himself into the study.

"Toris, take Gilbert back to his room. I don't want America to see anything. If he does, well... you'll both pay the price. Do I make myself clear?"

Toris grabbed Gilbert's arm, and practically dragged him towards the steps to the basement. As they stood on the stone steps, Gilbert pushed Lithuania's hand away.

"Why do you listen to everything he says? You don't have to blindly follow orders, ya know."

No reply.

"Hey, are you even listening to me?"

"Gilbert." The sudden reply made Prussia jump. "I am not your friend; neither do I want to be. You are here simply because of Ivan's wishes. I haven't forgotten Grunwald, when you tried to kill my best friend. Neither have I forgotten that smug grin on your face as you and your brother marched through my land, nearly killing all my people. Beating Feliks almost to death. No. I am not your friend."

"That was ages ago, Toris! Surely you've got over that by now!"

"I don't forget anything, East. I do not like you, and I am glad Russia has taken a fancy to beating you instead of me. That said," he reached over to grab Gilbert's arm again; "I am not going to deliberately try and get you into trouble. You can do that of your own accord. If we stay in our own parts of the house, and do not make contact with each other, I am sure we can get along fine." They had reached the basement room which now served as Gilbert's bedroom, and Lithuania pushed him inside.

"...Sleep well, East Germany."

"Fuck you!" was the only response he got.

* * *

Gilbert sat down on the cold stone floor. He leaned back against the wall, and studied the beautiful purple bruises adorning his arms. _Bloody bastard Russia. I bet he's upstairs at this moment, eating appetizers with America and discussing trade agreements. I bet he's smiling and laughing, all the while planning world domination. I bet America doesn't even remember that I'm here, that he and England sent me here to this hellhole. I bet no one even remembers me, or cares if I die._

He hugged his knees up to his chest in order to keep the warmth in.

_I don't blame Lithuania, really. God knows how long he's had to live with that madman. I'd never let anyone know that though. I'm meant to be the awesome Prussia, the one who never shows mercy or remorse. In fact, they'd all laugh if they saw me now, wallowing in my own self pity._

He stood up abruptly.

_No_, he thought. _I can't let Russia get me down. I've got to bear this as best as I can. I'm not going to stay here forever; God wouldn't do that to me._

_Or would he?_

* * *

About three hours later, Russia came downstairs to see Gilbert, curled up in a ball sleeping on the ground. A rare smile of affection grazed his lips, before he strode into the room, making as much noise as he possibly could.

Gilbert awoke instantly, the panic in his eyes settling into a cold grim look as he recognized the boots and trench coat of the Russian.

"What do you want, Braginski?"

"I want you to kneel down in front of me."

"What!?" Gilbert spluttered, "why?"

"Because I think we need to properly drill it into your head who is the boss here. And plus, I'm bored and want some fun. Kneel."

_Oh no,_ there was no way in hell he was going to prostrate himself in front of this man. _No way._

Russia drew a deep breath.

"I am waiting, comrade."

"I'm not your fucking comrade. And there is no way I am ever, EVER going to kneel to you. Understood?"

The blow to his face was expected, but it nevertheless managed to send him flying across the room, head into the stone wall. He slumped down, dazed, and felt the trickle of blood running down his right eye. He started coughing up blood and mucus.

"Get up, comrade. I am waiting."

"Pi-piss... off..." was all Gilbert could respond with. He wiped his mouth and carefully stood up, using the wall as a support.

Almost immediately the enormous Russian was on him again, pushing him down to the ground. Prussia put up a struggle, but soon he found himself straddled by the giant.

"...Well, this is certainly an interesting position. What are you planning to do? Ride me?" The grin on Gilbert's face was wild and feral. "Take a ride on my five meters, you Russian bastard. All night long baaby! ~"

The faintest glimmer of a smile almost formed on Ivan's face, before it was gone, and the Russian had stood up again. He shed himself of his pants, and yanked Gilbert's head up by his white blond hair.

There was an ominous pause from both men, until the taller of the two licked his lips seductively.

"Suck it, you vile Nazi scum. Suck."

* * *

Ludwig sat in the living room, reading a book. Today he was with England, and he had to admit, he found the man's company quite pleasant. Much better than the perverted France or the overactive America.

Said American suddenly burst through the front door, brandishing a hamburger in one hand, and a bottle of coke in the other.

"What the hell was that!?" Arthur walked firmly to the front door, saw the person standing in the doorway, and nearly pushed Alfred back out again. "Can you at least knock when you want to come in, you idiot?"

"Heey England! Hey Germany!"

"Are you even listening to me!?"

The American bounced into the room, and sat himself down firmly on the couch. Crumbs and bits of burger flew themselves across the room.

"Don't just walk in here uninvited and spread your vile food everywhere! I just cleaned here this morning!"

Ludwig shut the book with a sigh. He had often wondered how the Englishman had ever coped with America's foolishness.

"Anyways England, I went to visit Russia earlier!"

England froze.

"...Russia?" squeaked England.

"Yeah, he was actually rather nice to me! His house is always so cold, but luckily I had my jacket on, so I didn't-"

"Never mind that!" shouted England. He glanced nervously at Germany, who was sitting with a wide eyed expression on his face, "How is... how is East Germany?"

Ludwig mentally flinched at the use of 'East Germany'. Not Prussia. Prussia was dissolved, gone.

"Oh..." Alfred stopped. He swallowed heavily. "Well uh, Russia told me how, after we dissolved Prussia, he began to get weaker and weaker until eventually..." he trailed off.

Ludwig abruptly got up and ran upstairs. He couldn't stop the tears rapidly forming at the corners of his eyes. His brother was gone. Gilbert. Prussia. The one who had taught him how to use a sword, the one who had taken him out for his first drink, helped him home when he was high. The one who had sworn that he would always be there for his little bro.

And now he was Dead.

* * *

**A/N:** Cliffhangers! AHAHAHAHAA-*shot*

Anyways, I hoped you liked this chapter. I'm actually really enjoying writing this fanfiction because it has many parallels to my own life. I don't want to get into too many details though.

I'm also taking the fanfiction challenge here, where the pairing I am writing is DenmarkxPrussia. XD. So if there isn't an update in this one for a while, you'll know why. Lawls.

**HISTORICAL NOTES: Battle of Grunwald, July 15****th****, 1410. (Also known as the 1st Battle of Tannenberg.) The battle was fought between the Kingdom of Poland and the Grand Duchy of Lithuania vs the Knights of the Teutonic Order (Prussia when he was younger). The battle ended in a decisive victory for Poland and Lithuania.**


	3. Why should I listen

**A/N:** This has been a long time coming. I apologize OTL. Lots of school work, finals, and massive writer's block haven't been helping. But I think I'm all set now. I'm ready for the home stretch.

--LeriaCossato

* * *

Gilbert looked up at the giant in front of him.

"Is this... some kind of sick fetish of yours? Do you enjoy seeing others broken and humiliated before you?"

Russia grinned.

"We all have our sick fantasies, do we not? I'm just acting out mine."

He moved his hand, preparing to push Gilbert's mouth towards his cock, but was surprised when Gilbert shifted his head away from the touch, before moving to take Russia's member in his mouth voluntarily.

"I... I got it. Just..." His tongue swirled around the tip, darting back and forth to lap at the precum that was slowly oozing its way out. Ivan threw his head back, letting out a low hiss of pleasure. He fought back the urge to viciously thrust forward, and fuck that beautiful mouth. No. Gilbert had done this of his own accord, and he would let him set the pace. Russia may be a sadistic, twisted madman, but he did have respect for his enemies.

Sometimes.

Gilbert took the large cock in his mouth. He wasn't doing this out of his own free will; he was doing it so that Ivan would simply take his pleasure and leave him alone again. His wounds hurt, and he wanted some time to rest and sleep.

The sound of moans and heavy breathing filled the room. Gilbert recoiled inside. It was all lewd and disgusting. He wanted to stop, but the damn Russian wasn't even close to orgasm.

_Fuck it._

He grabbed out for Ivan's thick thigh, and pulled him closer, so that he was now deep throating his enormous cock. Finally, Gilbert could feel Ivan getting harder. He licked and sucked frantically, hot tears starting to run down his face, as he prayed silently.

_God... I know I haven't been the best of followers, and I've been a bit of dick. Yeah, I know that, but please... get me out of here._

Hot white cum spurted into his mouth, causing him to gag and almost choke. He felt a strong hand on his chin, preventing him from spitting it out. He closed his eyes he swallowed; repulsed by the thick, bitter feeling that slid all the way down his throat.

Suddenly, he felt a cold sensation against his cheek. He looked around to see Ivan kneeling next to him, holding out a glass of clear liquid. Gilbert shrunk away, expecting it to be vodka, but when Ivan pushed it against his lips; he could smell that it wasn't vodka. He took a sip. Only water.

The water helped to wash away some of the taste from his mouth, and he stood up, watching with a sort of childlike fascination as Russia pulled up his pants and reached for his heavy leather belt. He must have noticed Prussia watching him, for he turned around and regarded him with a quizzical half smile.

* * *

After that, things seemed to change around the household. Estonia and Latvia and Lithuania still kept far away from Gilbert, and Gilbert kept away from them, but something kept drawing him back towards the half open door at the end of the hallway.

Russia's private quarters.

There were a few times where he had walked in unannounced, and had been dealt a harsh punishment afterwards, but somehow, it seemed as if Russia had taken a step back with Gilbert. He found himself with more freedom, and was even allowed to leave the house sometimes. But he wasn't allowed anywhere near the wall. Ivan had told him in his light, childish voice that he would get shot if he did.

And Gilbert had no intention of dying just yet.

* * *

"Russia...?" began Gilbert one day, as he sat in the living room, idly twirling a piece of rope between his fingers.

Russia looked up from his paperwork.

"If you have nothing better to do, then please go help Lithuania in the kitchen."

Prussia snapped the rope, causing it to make a loud whipping noise through the air, "Nah... I'm too awesome for that. I don't do kitchen work. If ya want me to go shoot someone I can do that-"

A large hand on his collar sent the rest of his words out as a strange groan. Russia's look was cold.

"How many times do I have to teach you, Comrade? We have been in relative peace for quite some time now. I almost do not mind your company. But you still have to remember who exactly is boss, da?"

Gilbert mutely nodded. His collar was released.

Ivan held out his hand.

"Give me the rope."

With the expression of a spoiled child giving up his toys, Gilbert passed Russia the piece of rope. He watched as Russia walked over to the fireplace, and dropped it in.

"Now you know what happens to things you abuse. I can simply take them away, and destroy them."

Prussia stalked out of the room with a murderous glare.

* * *

Austria sat at home, in front of his piano. Usually, he could just play, and lose himself in the music, but something prevented him from doing so today. He placed his fingers upon the keys...

And something inside him failed.

His fingers slid down next to his sides.

He sat there for a while, listening to the sounds of the birds outside his window.

He missed Hungary. He missed her boisterous air, her carefree way of looking at life. All he wanted to do was have her again in his arms, twirling her, and lifting her and sending her spinning-

Prussia's face flashed into his mind.

He stopped short. What on earth was that idiot doing in his precious memories? Those memories were meant for him and Elizaveta, and Gilbert had no right to get anywhere near them.

_Idiot... Stupid, hard-headed, vital region-seizing idiot._

The door opened carefully, and a maid stepped in.

"A letter for you sir."

He sprang up from the chair.

"Is it from Eliza?"

"No sir, from Mr Germany."

Oh, from Ludwig.

He reached out and grasped the letter. The envelope was cheap and rough and brown, a clear reminder of his current state. Tearing it open, a single piece of lined paper fell out. He heard the door close.

On the paper, there appeared to be only a single line of writing. Puzzled, Austria picked it up and looked at it carefully in the dwindling light. The sentence was short and brief and to the point. Just as Ludwig had always been.

The paper fluttered out of his hands, and settled around his feet. He stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide.

And embarrassing as it was, Roderich found himself crying.

* * *

The wind blew harsh and angry against the windowpanes. Russia and the Baltics sat in the living room, playing a game of cards. It looked fairly relaxed and cheerful on the surface, but all three of them knew that they were simply playing for pretences. Russia would have to win. He always did.

Gilbert paced back and forth, muttering words under his breath. He was bored, and frustrated, and he wanted to see Ludwig again. The constant routine of living at Russia's house was getting on his nerves immensely.

Ivan was watching Gilbert from the corner of his eye. The card game was getting boring. Sure, he knew he was going to win; but it would be fun to have someone challenging to play with. Suddenly, he slapped his handful on the table. All three Baltics jumped.

"Is... is there something wrong, Sir?" asked Estonia timidly.

"You three. Put your cards down. I'm tired of playing with you. Gilbert will play now."

Gilbert, hearing his name, whirled around.

"I'm doing what?"

"You heard me, Comrade."

Prussia snatched the cards, and angrily started to shuffle them.

"Do it gently." The voice was hard.

He started shuffling them in slow motion.

"Don't irritate me, _East_."

Prussia dealt the cards, slapping them down as he did so. His red eyes were locked onto Russia's, showing a fierce determination not to lose.

"The stakes..?"

Ivan smiled coldly.

"If you win, I will let you go and visit Elizaveta. Once. If I win... " he trailed off.

Prussia's head snapped up. He hadn't realised Elizaveta was being held as well.

"What have you done to her??? If you've hurt her..."

"Relax, Comrade. She is safe and well with my sisters. She is also spending a great deal of time with her old friend Feliks as well."

Prussia twitched at the mention of Poland. He set his jaw firmly, and swallowed.

"Let's get this over with."

* * *

They all knew Russia was going to win. Gilbert had never been the smartest of people.

And yet, it was still devastating to see the anguished expression on his face as Russia put down his cards and calmly announced that he had won.

Russia bent over, and grabbed Gilbert around the waist. He lifted him up, and started walking towards the door.

"Toris, clean up the cards."

"Yes, Sir" was the hurried reply.

"Hey wait! Where are you taking me? What are you planning???" Gilbert struggled and squirmed, but he was no match for Ivan's almost inhuman strength. Russia kicked open the front door, and strode out into the freezing cold. He walked until he reached an old, broken lamppost, and set Prussia down in front of it. Gilbert was shivering immensely in his thin clothes, and didn't notice at first the long chains that Ivan brought out of his coat pocket.

Russia coolly chained Gilbert's arms to the lamppost. Gilbert struggled and whimpered, but the chains held firm. He gazed up at Ivan with a desperate look in his eye.

"Please, Ivan. Don't do this."

"I'm sorry East, but I'm having too much fun."

"You think this is fun!?"

"Why yes in fact, I do." Russia turned on his heel, and walked off. Over his shoulder he called, "Oh, I'll free you tomorrow. Don't die before then."

"It's a fucking snowstorm out here! You bastard!"

* * *

The next morning, Ivan walked over to the lamppost. Gilbert was cold and unresponsive, but Ivan knew he wasn't dead. It took much more than that to kill a nation. Even a pitiful one like East Germany.

He unlocked the chains, and lifted the limp Gilbert over his shoulder with a kind of twisted kindness. He did in fact care for Gilbert, but he would never let anyone know that.

Besides, when he abused and tortured his satellite nations, he was only showing them how much he loved them, wasn't he?

* * *

**A/N:** Urg God I hate this chapter. So much fail OTL. But I think that Ivan doesn't really know how to show love, so instead he shows it in the only way he knows how. By hurting people.

**HISTORICAL NOTES: After WWII, the countries occupied by the Soviet Union included East Germany, Hungary, Poland, Romania, Bulgaria and Austria (although Austria was only under Soviet control for a short while, so by this time Roderich is a free nation again.)**


	4. to explanations?

**A/N: **Last chapter before the epilogue. I found a beautiful MAD of Russia and Prussia on YouTube, with the vocaloid song 'Meltdown' by Rin Kagamine. Search up: 'RussiaxPrussia Meltdown', and it should be the first one that comes up.

Also, Mathias is the human name I've used for Denmark.

--LeriaCossato

* * *

_9__th__ November, 1989_

It was coming down. It was. After 28 years, his people would be united once again. They would see their loved ones, hold them and let the tears fall freely.

Ludwig shed no tears of his own. He couldn't.

It had been both beautiful and heartbreaking to see the Eastern Bloc reunite with the ones they hadn't seen for so long. Elizaveta and Roderich had embraced; Feliks had run out into the open like a child.

There had been no sign of Gilbert. Of course there wouldn't be. He was dead, wasn't he? He'd heard the news so long ago from America.

So when Germany saw a pale man with silver hair and blood-red eyes, leaning against the corner of a building, he almost fell over from shock.

"...Gil-Gilbert?" was all he could manage.

The man grinned. "Who else?"

Ludwig ran over to his brother, sweeping him up in a fairytale embrace. He squeezed Gilbert's sides tightly, until his older brother gasped in pain and he quickly set him down again.

Gilbert leant over, breathing heavily.

"Brother, are you alright? I'm sorry; I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

"I'm fine, West. I just..."

And then Gilbert fainted.

* * *

When Gilbert woke up, he was in his old bed from before the war. He looked down, and saw the familiar duvet that Ludwig had embroidered with beer mugs. He would have burst out laughing, had his chest not been so painful.

A timid face appeared around the door frame. North Italy. Upon seeing Prussia awake, he skipped into the room and hugged him gently.

"Gil-Gil~ How have you been, ve~? Ludwig says you've been with Russia for a long, long time. I don't quite understand why, but you're back now anyways! That's a good thing, isn't it? How was Ivan? Did he make you eat yucky food? Don't worry, I made pasta and we're all ready to eat when you are. Oh! And Roderich and Eliza came round too. They want to see you."

Gilbert let the little Italian prattle on. He smiled. Feliciano hadn't changed, he probably never would. Slowly, he pushed back the covers, and stood up. Italy saw some of the bruises and scars on his arms where his sleeve rolled up. His smile faded slightly.

"Ne, ne – did you fall over? Your arms are so bruised..." He reached out a hand, but it was slapped away. Feliciano gave him a sad look, before turning to the door. "Come down soon... please?"

As he threw open the kitchen door, and flashed his trademark grin, Gilbert was surprised to feel Elizaveta's arms around him. She hugged him, before punching him lightly in the shoulder. The punch was directly against one of his bruises, but Gilbert tried not to show the discomfort in his face. He pulled away, and came face to face with Roderich.

"You idiot," he said, "Don't ever do that to us again."

The dinner was like heaven, heaven away from those meagre meals he had grown accustomed to after so many years. Gilbert ate like a dog, filling his body with food out of sheer habit: during his times in the Soviet Union, he had never known when exactly his next meal would be. Ludwig noticed this behaviour and smiled sadly. He didn't know what exactly his brother had gone through in the 40 years he had been away, but he knew that it was probably painful to talk about, and he didn't want his brother to suffer any more than was necessary.

* * *

It was mid afternoon when Germany walked into his brother's room to find him fingering a particularly nasty looking scar on his upper arm. The creak of the floorboards made him jump impressively, and he quickly pulled down his sleeve, hoping Ludwig hadn't noticed.

He had, however.

"Brother, I've arranged for a doctor to come look at all your injuries. He's in the living room right now."

"I'm not seeing him."

"...Why?"

A mumbled, "don't need him."

"Yes you do."

"No I don't."

"We can argue this all day; you ARE going to see him. Stop being stubborn."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"As your brother, I am doing what's best for you. Please recognize this."

"As your OLDER brother, you can't boss me around. Ha. Beat that."

Thirty seconds later, Gilbert found himself thrown into the living room, a smug West locking the door behind him. The doctor turned around and smiled gently at him. Prussia gave him a glare.

Ludwig knew it was wrong, but he remained at the door, ear pressed onto the painted wood. He had to find out what had happened to his brother, and he knew Gilbert would never tell him willingly.

"So, Herr Beilschmidt, your brother tells me that you've been caught up in East Germany since the War. I cannot begin to imagine how horrible it must have been there."

Prussia scowled. This man was basically insulting him.

"Now, I'm going to have to check you, so please take off your shirt and lay down on the couch."

Gilbert sighed resignedly, before carefully tugging of the long sleeved shirt. He hissed as the fabric brushed against one of the newer cuts, one that hadn't healed yet.

The doctor's face was one of shock. Clearly he was new in this business. _Or was he beat up more than he realised?_

Carefully, he set to work, examining the cuts and scars that littered Gilbert's arms and torso. His frown deepened as he prodded and poked.

"Most of these look like bruises from a heavy, blunt object. What happened to you?"

"It's none of your fucking business."

"If you do not tell me what happened, I will have no choice but to call the police and report this."

Prussia threw his head back and laughed. Call the police? Who would they arrest? You couldn't arrest a goddamn nation, for Christ's sake.

"Herr Beilschmidt, please! This is not a laughing matter!"

Prussia grabbed the man by his collar and lifted him easily off the ground. The strength of the Prussian army was flowing through his veins once more.

"Not one of you. Not one of you fucking realise. Do you know how much I've suffered? For forty fucking years I've lived with a madman, being beaten almost daily, not getting enough food, not being able to take one step outside that bloody house. Being told that I was a worthless piece of dirt, that I didn't deserve to exist. Not knowing if I was going to be here tomorrow or not.

Do you know what he did to me? No, of course you don't. You don't have a fucking clue, you lucky bastard."

Prussia drew the man closer to him.

"He fucking raped me. More than once. Straight up the ass. Do you know how that feels, to be degraded beyond imagining?"

The doctor shook his head mutely. Gilbert tossed him to the side. He whirled towards the door.

"I know you're there, West. Did you think I was stupid? Stupid pitiful East Germany? Well let me tell you this. I AM PRUSSIA, BITCH!"

And with those words, he kicked open the door, ran past a stunned Germany, and out into the cold street.

* * *

It was Italy Romano who finally found him, huddled in the doorway of an abandoned animal sanctuary. He was holding a tiny little chick in his hands, trying to keep it warm.

"Oi, you fucking crazy? You're not wearing a shirt, potato bastard."

Gilbert looked up at the Italian. "Why on earth were you looking for me?"

"Feliciano made me. I didn't want to."

"Oh."

"But you know; I'm kinda glad I did."

Gilbert frowned.

"But don't tell anyone that," added Romano quickly, "Or I'll chop your balls off."

Gilbert laughed. And then he laughed some more. And then he was laughing like he hadn't done for forty years, and it was a comfort to feel someone's arm around him, even if it was that grumpy Italian, who didn't quite seem so grumpy anymore.

They watched as the little bird suddenly flew off into the grey sky, and then Romano pulled Gilbert to his feet.

"Come on. Let's go back to potato bastard's house. Show them what you're made of. Even if the world says we don't exist anymore, we know we're still alive."

* * *

_9__th__ November, 2009_

Everyone was sitting around the long table in the conference room. All was as it had always been. Lovino was angrily trying to hit a very oblivious Antonio, who had his arms around the smaller man. Yao was trying to sell something to Kiku, who politely refused. Francis had almost been kicked out twice by Arthur, who was complaining of 'molestation'_._ Mathias and Berwald were having a glaring contest across the table, while Feliks was eagerly trying to persuade Toris that painting his nails pink would be a fabulous idea. Alfred was loudly shouting into Matthew's ear, something about hamburgers.

Only two people noticed Gilbert sitting quietly, staring out of the window.

Ludwig came up to his brother and put his arm carefully around him. Gilbert flinched instinctively from the sudden contact, before realising that it was only his brother and relaxing again.

"Twenty years. Twenty years we've been together again."

He was only acknowledged with a small nod. Sighing, he turned away and went to rescue Feliciano, who seemed to have been caught up in a loud shouting match between a very annoyed Vash and an exasperated Roderich.

The second person crept up towards Gilbert. For his size, Ivan could really be a stealthy person.

Kneeling down, he breathed into Gilbert's cold ear.

"However much you try and be German, you cannot get away from the fact that Kalingrad is still Russian territory. Try and run away, little bird. You cannot escape me. Part of your soul will always be mine."

Gilbert shuddered involuntarily.

"You feel it, don't you? Amidst all the happiness and joy that being free in body brings, there is coldness in your soul, a coldness that brings you back to me. I will wait, East Germany. I will wait for the day you come running back to me."

"Never."

"Always so bold, East. You never did bow completely to me, the way my Baltics did. Oh well, I guess it doesn't matter now. I enjoyed the fights we had. The way your blood splattered against the walls, the way you screamed that night as I took you. I will never forget that, and you won't either."

The other nations suddenly noticed the way Prussia was shaking. England loudly commanded Russia to step away from Gilbert, and go back to his own place at the table.

Russia grinned, the grin that would forever be engraved into Gilbert's nightmares.

"Til then, East Germany. Farewell."

"It's PRUSSIA."

"Prussia does not exist anymore, Gilbert. And neither do you."

* * *

**A/N:** In my headcanon, I believe that although Gilbert is now with Ludwig and not under Russian control, part of him involuntarily still wants to be with Russia. I also believe that nowadays, he is not quite 'there' in mind and spirit because of the fact he is not a true nation anymore.

I put in the little Prussia/Romano moment because I think unwillingly; they share a lot of similarities in both their personalities and their situations.

**HISTORICAL NOTES: The Berlin Wall came down on the 9****th**** November 1989. Some of the other countries of the Eastern Bloc, such as Hungary, were freed from Soviet Control a few months earlier. The part of Gilbert's 'soul' that I talk about is Kaliningrad. Once known as ****Königsberg, it is the northern part of former East Prussia, and to this day it is still under Russian control. Many Germans still hope that one day, Königsberg will return to Germany.**


	5. The End

**A/N:** And so concludes my little Russia/Prussia story. I hope you enjoyed it, although I know that it is terrible and that I'm probably going to rewrite it sometime in the near future. Ah well.

-LeriaCossato

* * *

Diary:

I don't know what to do anymore. I try to help him, but I can't. I have no idea what happened over that wall, for so many years. When I try to talk to him, he pulls away. _I'm on the verge of giving up_.

But I don't want to give up. He's my _brother_, after all. I shouldn't give up. A good soldier never gives up. Giving up is for the weak and unworthy.

Germania... I wish you were still here. I'm young. Young and foolish.

* * *

Last night I had the dream again.

His scarf was around my face. It should have suffocated me, but for some reason I could only feel warmth.

Strange, for I always remember his house being cold.

* * *

Dear diary:

I couldn't play well today. Elizaveta noticed, of course. She asked me if something was wrong.

What could I have said? _That I secretly care about the man who's been an annoyance in our lives for as long as we can remember_?

I need to put Eliza first. She is a big part of me.

_But so is Gilbert..._

That idiot. Why won't you come back to us?

* * *

I woke up half hard and aroused. Fingering the scars over my chest, all I could see was his eyes.

What would West say if he could see me now, stroking myself, whispering his name?

_Ivan... Ivan... Oh God Ivan, please..._

* * *

Dear diary,

I miss him. I can't even believe I am writing this.

I miss him. _Him_. The boy who I grew up with, the teenager who tried to look up my skirt whenever I climbed a tree, the man who unsuccessfully tried to crash my wedding.

He's gone, and _I don't know if he's going to come back_. Ever.

* * *

I'm shredding this journal. West came round and tried to tidy up. Said that I was wasting away my life, that even though _I don't exist anymore_, I should go out, get a job, spend time with people.

That bastard.

Ivan never said things like that.

I want him. Fuck, I want him.

_...Dear God, I think I might have sinned._

_~Keep yourself away_  
_Far away from me_  
_I'll forever stay_  
_Your perfect enemy~_

**

* * *

A/N:** This story was always meant to be a little ambiguous and confusing. Maybe it's just the way I write, or maybe somehow I was influenced by the idea that East Germany was kind of cut off from the rest of the world. You never see pictures of the Berlin Wall from the East side.

Anyways, I would like to say a massive THANK YOU to everyone who has read this, reviewed and added to story watch/favourites. I wish I could have given you more. I wish I was a better writer. OTL

**HISTORICAL NOTES: Some people in East Germany today think that it was better when they were controlled by the Soviet Union. That is why I wanted Prussia to have conflicting views on Ivan. He doesn't want to be near him, but at the same time he desperately wants him back.**

**It's tragic, really.**


End file.
